Wish Come True
by Siiarrei
Summary: On Harry's seventeenth birthday, he makes a wish while blowing out the candles. What will he do when his wish turns his world upsidedown. HarryDraco
1. The Wish

Wish Come True

Chapter one: The Wish

Life, Harry had decided, was a rather pointless activity to take part in. Every day was exactly like the one that had preceded it; he woke, ate breakfast, did chores for the Dursleys, ate dinner, completed summer homework, and then mourned his lost love ones until he fell asleep. Quite a dull, sad process, two meals a day (the Dursleys would never waste three full meals on him), hard work, and then waves of sadness and regret, for every person who had died in the war; the war which was finally over, after far too many years.

Harry Potter sat staring out at the dark street below him, illuminated by the streetlamps, orangey light fading as it reached the lawns, eerie black shadows stemming from hedges and shrubs. Harry sighed to himself, he had just reached the mourning portion of his day, this day which was the same as all the others, yet somehow different.

Today was different for it was Harry's seventeenth birthday, and in a little less than a half hour, he would legally be an adult, a true wizard, well as true as one could be without first graduating school. The minutes ticked by and the street stayed as still as muggle photographs, not a change in the orangey streetlamp glow, no change in the deep dark shadows, and the pavement remained as solid as ever.

11:59, only a minute to go, Harry lit the candles of his small sticky chocolate cake with an old lighter he had found lying in the dirt lying next to a rusty swing set in the park. The cake had been a present from Hagrid, the first of his gifts to arrive.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

At the sound of the watch timer Harry closed his eyes, wishing hard. The light of the flames flicked around his face, casting odd shadows over his thick lashes and black hair. His lids opened once more to reveal a shocking set of emerald eyes that seemed to glow in the candle-light. His lips parted slightly blowing out the seventeen small flames, throwing his room sharply into darkness.

He was not in the mood to eat the sweet dessert in front of him; instead he took one last glance out his window, before dropping the blinds, and falling on his bed and into a dreamless sleep.

But what Harry Potter did not know, was that his wish would come true, the only thing that could stop the waves of guilt, the only thing that he could think of to stop the sadness.

"_I wish I could forget… I wish that I could forget the war, the deaths, and the guilt…"_

Sunlight trickled beneath closed blinds into the smallest, and most certainly the messiest room of number four, Privet Drive. Illuminated on a small twin bed was a slightly tanned, black-haired, seventeen-year-old boy, whom was sprawled ungracefully, and tangled in the dull white sheets.

A sharp rap sounded on the door, and a woman's voice could be heard shouting through the wood. "Up! Get up, boy!"

Harry blinked his bright green eyes squinting at his ceiling, cursing the sunlight that was currently blinding him.

Another rap sounded at the door. "UP!"

Harry groaned and rolled of the bed, landing upside-down with a thud, his legs still tangled in the sheets. He quickly detangled himself, before washing his face and brushing his teeth in the bathroom down the hall. Once he finished he rushed downstairs, he was happy to see that Dudley's diet had been given a bit of slack, the family was now eating a half grapefruit each for breakfast, not exactly a meal, especially for Harry, whose half showed more resemblance to quarter slice.

The 'meal' passed quickly, Harry did the dishes, surprised that Dudley wasn't sitting at the kitchen table mocking him, like usual, but instead in the other room watching the TV. Harry gave a mental shrug as he put the last glass, now both clean and dry, in its place on the shelf. He then moved outside to trim the grass, pull out weeds, water the flowers, and do other such outdoor activities.

It was a very hot day and the summer sun scorched Harry's neck as he worked, but by two he was finally allowed back in the house to take out the trash, and to straiten and dust all indoor objects. At six he joined the family for 'dinner', all of them ignoring him so accurately it was as though he were not even present. He did the dishes yet again, and went upstairs to his room.

To his great surprise, lying on his desk, just in front of his window was a small, gooey chocolate cake, it had green iced words that were quite messily done, the words were obviously supposed to say "Happy Birthday Harry" but ended up looking more like "Hovly Bnthauy Hnlly". But well-written or not, a cake was still a cake, which was something Harry had never had in his life, especially not a birthday cake. This wasn't just any cake though, it was _his_ cake, and it was for his seventeenth birthday.

He quickly dug into the sweet and messy substance, his hands and face getting rather covered in chocolate. After eating a few slices of the most delicious thing he had ever tasted, he went to the bathroom and showered off the frosting and the sweat from his day's work.

This, Harry decided, had to have been one of the best days of his life, the Dursleys were ignoring him, he had gotten to eat cake when Dudley only had grapefruit and a small salad, and best of all, he had this wonderful feeling of freedom, as though some great burden had been lifted from him. And with a huge grin on his face he drifted off into an early sleep, having dreams of all the wonderful things he had never had, friends, family, and a place that he really considered home.

What this dreaming boy did not know, was that he indeed had all those things, in the form of Ron and Hermione, Sirius Black, and Hogwarts. But Harry knew nothing of these things, for his birthday wish had indeed come true, and he had thus forgotten completely the last six years, left with only a distant memory of a letter addressed to him and his cupboard, a letter which Uncle Vernon had burned, and which was never sent again.

TBC

Yay! Okay, that was the first HP story I've written all on my own, so be nice. And pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaasseeee reveiw! I love you guys! Oh, and I plan to update this story every-other firday, I sorta got off to a late start, but whatever. See you all in two weeks!

MERRY CHRISMAHANIKWANZIMUS!


	2. Letters and Lists

Wish Come True

Chapter two: Letters and Lists

Harry closed his eyes, covering his head with a pillow to block out the loud rapping noise that could be nothing but his aunt's boney knuckles banging against his door. "I'm getting up!" he mumbled sleepily into his mattress, before pulling himself out of the warm sheets. His hand fumbled around his bedside table in search of his glasses, which he shoved unceremoniously onto his nose.

He jumped in shock as his eyes fell upon a large white owl rapping it's beak against his window pane. Harry stepped cautiously over to his window, watching the huge majestic bird flap outside. He fumbled with the latch and pushed the glass open, in one swift motion the bird flew through the open window, landing on a large cage in the corner of Harry's desk that he had somehow failed to notice.

Large, gleaming, yellow eyes stared at him expectantly, and it was then that he noticed a letter tied to the bird's leg. Harry edged forward, carefully untying the letter, and to his surprise, the letter was addressed to him; _Mr. H.J. Potter. _The letter's contents bewildered the boy even more then the fact it was addressed to him.

_Mr. H.J. Potter,_

_The Ministry of Magic wishes to address your recent 17th birthday, as you are now a legal wizard, we must inform you of the laws which apply to this. Magic is permitted, the unforgivable curses are, of course, forbidden, unless you are an auror. Magic must not be used in front of muggles, unless they are in you direct family. It is not permitted to harm a muggle in any way, nor to kill a fellow wizard. Please keep these laws in mind, and enjoy your new freedom._

_Sincerely,_

_Rufus Srimgeour,_

_Minister of Magic_

His emerald eyes skimmed over the letter for a second time, there was no way he could've read that properly, _Ministry of Magic_, well that's a load of rubbish, there was no such thing. _You are now a legal wizard_, more nonsense, how gullible did these people think he was, and what in the name of god was a 'muggle'. It wasn't just the letter's contents the surprised him, for that could easily be a prank, a very odd prank, but one none-the-less, but who would go to that length for a joke?

As much as it pained him to do so, at the sound of his aunt rapping on his door, he decided to show her the letter. "Er… Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked timidly, coming out of his room.

"What?" She said in haughty voice, glaring at Harry suspiciously.

"I… just got this letter," he hesitated, before handing it to his aunt. Her piercing gaze scanned it quickly, before she shoved it back into his hands, a slightly scared look in her eyes.

"Very well, breakfast is ready," and with that she strode off briskly, Harry didn't have the faintest idea why this letter affected his aunt in that way, but it certainly had a huge effect on her. He shrugged, threw the letter back onto his bed, and went downstairs to eat.

For the first time in the history of his memory, his food serving was the same size as Dudley's, not just that but all of the Dursleys kept glancing up at Harry with a kind of wide-eyed horror. This was awfully confusing for Harry, who ate as quickly as possible and took his plate to the kitchen.

Petunia Dursley came into the kitchen not long after and informed Harry, in a small voice, that he needn't do any of his usual chores. Yet another mystery of the day, and he was getting rather sick of not having any answers. He walked over to his window which was still open from when he had let the owl in earlier that morning, but at the exact moment he walked in front of the opening, a large, very old looking grey owl came flying strait at him.

Harry did not dodge fast enough, and the bird collided rather forcefully with his stomach. Only minutes later yet another owl flew through the window, this one smaller than Harry's fist. Each bird had either an envelope or parcel tied to its leg. After he had detached the cargo, the birds flew off, and just as he was opening the letter, another owl flew inside; this was getting to be crazy.

After scanning the skies for anymore supposedly nocturnal birds, Harry sat on the floor glaring at the stack of four parcels, all addressed to him. He lifted a lumpy package with blue writing that read "Happy Birthday Harry" He opened it and found a package of treacle fudge and a small fruit cake. To say that Harry was surprised would be an understatement. He had _never_ had a present in his life, well if one excluded the strange cake that had appeared in his room yesterday.

The next one, with very untidy writing on it, was a birthday card; _"Hey Harry! I hope everything's going well, I'm going to give you your present on the train; I just have to be there to see the look on your face at what I got you! I hope your having an excellent birthday (well as good a birthday as you can have while living with the Dursleys),_

_See you in September,_

_Ron._

_PS Did you get the fudge and cake Mum sent you?"_

The emerald eyes blinked slowly in disbelief, and he reread the letter. This person 'Ron' knew he lived with the Dursleys, a fact that Harry rarely told anyone, but not just that, he also knew when Harry's birthday was, and seemed to think that they would see each other on a train in September. Harry shook his head to clear it, and lifted another small package; this one had a letter tied to the front of it.

"_Dear Harry,_

_I hope your relatives are treating you all right. I can't wait to see you or for school to start! I know you'll probably be annoyed with me for getting you a book for a present, but it really is fascinating. I'll see you soon,_

_With lots of love,_

_Hermione."_

He stared dumbfounded at the letter. This was in completely different handwriting then both the 'ministry of magic' and 'Ron's' letter. Who ever had set up this prank was going through a great deal of bother to make it realistic. He opened this 'Hermione's' package to find, as the letter had said, a book. It was the strangest book Harry had ever seen, the pages changed directions, so that the reader constantly had to flip the book upside down or sideways to read the text. The book was titled "A Diary of Pranks, confusion on every page" By Gred and Feorge Weasley. Both of which seemed like very bizarre names.

A seal on the back of the last letter proved its obvious importance, that along with the green cursive formal addressing "Mr. H.J. Potter Smallest Bedroom, Number 4 Privet Drive." The seal was in red wax and showed a shield with four animals, a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake. His thumb slid under the flap, opening the letter. It was written on yellowish parchment with green ink.

It consisted of a letter 'reminding' Harry to go to King's Cross Station, London to catch the Hogwarts express. A train that apparently would take him to his school, this was strange because he did not attend "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry", but Stonewall, the very boring and ordinary public high school. There was also the ticket to said train, a reminder to replenish all school supplies, robes and potion ingredients, and a book list.

To Harry's disbelief the school's book list consisted of the fallowing:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 7) _by Miranda Goshawk

_Charming the Already Charmed _by Zamira Gulch

_When Your Garden Turns on You _by Kaitlin Florae

_Transfiguration for the Trifled Mind _by Emeric Switch

_Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration _byAdalbert Waffling

_From Abyssinian Shrivilfig to Wormwood, for Those of Esteemed Caliber in Potion Making _by Arsenis Jigger

_To Death, Doth I Part, the diary of a vampire _by Rennet Silth

_Shining Light on the Dark Arts _by Quentin Trimble

_Théorie des Stratégies de Défense Magique_ par Wibert Eskiudur

The last of these books, Harry assumed was for French class, however a book titled "Theory of the Strategies of Defensive Magic" seemed a rather odd title for a French course book. Harry puzzled over these letters and gifts. It really made no sense… well unless it was all a dream, but no it couldn't be.

Sudden realization hit Harry, hard. He swore loudly as he realized that if this was his school supply list, he'd have to ask the Dursleys for money, he really didn't think they'd give him money to buy a vampire's diary, or a book about evil gardens. Feeling as though it might be easier on himself to just hide in a ditch and die, he descended the stairs to the living room, hoping dearly that god would be merciful.

"Uh... Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked timidly. Vernon grunted, not looking up. Harry took this as a sign to continue. "Well I need to get some course books, for my scho—"

"Fine boy, come on get in the car, I don't have all day!" Uncle Vernon's face had gone purple as though he was fighting every instinct he had. Harry all but ran out of the house before his uncle could change his mind. Vernon slammed the door forcefully as he sat down in the driver's seat.

* * *

"I'm dropping you off in London, I will pick you up here at five sharp, if you are not there, then I'm leaving you in London until your ruddy school starts," Harry's Uncle announced. 

"But," Harry paused, he had being thanking the gods for his fortune the whole ride to London, but he still had the hardest part to go, "I need to _buy_ my school things."

"Then go already," a vain was throbbing in Uncle Vernon's temple.

"And to buy things, I need…" his voice trailed off and he gulped "to borrow some money." It was truly amazing the number of colors his uncle's face could turn, there was every shade of red and purple imaginable, Harry of course was too busy writing a mental will to notice any of this.

"Fine," Uncle Vernon finally chocked out. He handed Harry some money. The black-haired teen got out of the car as fast as humanly possible. His uncle's car zoomed quickly out of sight, Harry examined the money in his hand; he had about enough for four books if he bought them used and in paperback. This wasn't very useful seeing how he had ten books he needed to buy.

About four hours later Harry had found a grand total of none of his school books, the fist store he tried, after wandering around for a half hour, he decided to ask one of the people working there. The girl behind the counter was a very ditzy looking blond, her hair was tied in two messy buns, and she was chewing gum in a rather loud manor.

Harry had shown her the list, and she started laughing "What are you, bonkers?" she had asked. Harry had glared at her and tried to explain that these were the books he needed for school, she laughed even more and then told him that he had the strangest pick-up lines she had ever heard, and that she was free on Sunday. He had left fuming.

All the other stores he tried had varying levels of that same response everything from "Sorry we don't carry any of those here" to "No bu' the mad house is down the street, yer might wanna try there." It was now one pm and Harry was getting very hungry, not to mention tired, wandering through all of London in search of apparently non-existent books was getting very tiresome. He found a place selling very small cheap burgers; he bought one of these for lunch before continuing his search. The idea of going to a large bookstore had quickly been put down as a bad idea, and he was now searching all the small stores.

A shop across the street with red lights and dark wall paper, along with a sign reading "Vampyres' Night", had caught Harry's eye, this looked like the exact type of store that would sell him books on the 'dark arts' and vampires. Upon entering the store, Harry was forced to stop and let his eyes adjust to the strange lighting. Glass jars full of oddly colored liquids littered the shelves, along with clip-on fangs, and all sorts of other bizarre things.

"Why hello there," said a slow strange voice behind him. Harry jumped and spun around, the man who had spoken was wearing all black and had hair and eyes to match, his skin however was deathly pale. His eyes bulged slightly but had a sharp focus, excluding the fact that his left eye kept wandering a little to the right. A large grin was placed on this man's lips, it definitely didn't suit him. In fact it gave him the look of some sort of psycho killer who was on the loose.

"Er… Hi," Harry replied uneasily.

"Looking for something?" the man asked, his smile still in place.

"Uh, yeah, I was wondering if you, had any books on vampires," Now that Harry thought of it, this man looked as though he could easily have been a member of the blood-sucking undead.

The man chuckled "Vampires my boy? What interesting creatures they are… fallow me." The man turned and walked toward the back of the shop. Harry really didn't want to let the door out of his sight, but needed to find at least one of his textbooks before the day was out. He fallowed the man into the dank shop, to find a section of books completely dedicated to vampires.

"Uh thank you, sir, but there is a specific book I need. _To Death Doth I Part_, if you have it, sir," Harry said, trying to keep himself on the good side of this stranger.

"Oh yes my boy. It is a very good book indeed, great insight on those who haunt us in the night," His gaze made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. The man finally broke eye contact to pull a dusty volume from the shelf. "Here you go my boy, I don't get many customers or I'd give it to your for free."

Harry went to the cash register and paid for his book, leaving as quickly as possible, but before the door close behind him, he heard the man say "I hope we meet again Mr. Potter."

Harry had spent most of the rest of that evening attempting to find his other course books, and to keep his mind from straying back to the evil looking man who had somehow known his name. As promised the Dursleys were there to pick him up at exactly five o' clock.

Dinner was eaten in silence, and Harry left quickly. This was getting to be a very strange business, playing along with the prank was very difficult indeed. He had resolved to send whatever money he had left along with a note to this "Hermione" girl, seeing as she seemed to be so fond of books.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I am doing well, but am having a bit of difficultly getting my school books, there is some money enclosed, and I would greatly appreciate if you could get them for me. I will pay you back whatever this doesn't cover when I have the money. My booklist is included as well, I already managed to get a copy of "To Death Doth I Part"._

_Harry._

There, that part was taken care of, now how was he supposed to send the letter. His eyes darted around the room, finally to land on the large snowy owl; he handed the letter to the bird and said quite clearly, "Could you please take that to Hermione for me." Before collapsing down on his bed as the owl flew out of his room, he had just talked to an owl. That girl in the bookstore was right, he had gone completely bonkers.

* * *

About a week later Harry got Hermione's reply along with his nine other books. Whoever was doing this prank was certainly doing the whole thing properly; Harry himself was nearly completely convinced. 

The days dragged on, one after the other, the Dursleys avoiding Harry, and Harry avoiding them. The summer was slowly drawing to a close, and he had received no other owl letters, and hadn't seen hide nor hair of that stranger he had met in London. All thoughts of his strange birthday were driven from Harry's mind. Until of course the last week of summer, which was filled with the suspense and wonder of what would happen on the first of September.

TBC

* * *

Hey guys, sorry for the lateness, but dont worry I'm still on track, as an apology I'll update next Friday instead of waiting a week. Thanks to the four people who have reviewed so far! I love you people! And if you haven't reviewed yet pleeeeaaaase do! Happy Belated New Year everyone! 

Siiarrei


	3. Platform What?

Wish Come True

Chapter Three: Platform What?

August 31, a day that couldn't have been going any slower in Harry's opinion. Harry's insides were squirming; he had woken at about five am from nerves, and had spent the morning throwing the entire contents of his bedroom into his trunk, excluding the furniture. Breakfast was skived seeing how Harry doubted that he could hold anything down.

By two, he had cleaned every inch of his room until it sparkled, of course his trunk was still a mess, but his mind wasn't exactly working in the most optimal manor. The snowy owl's eyes fallowed him as he paced back and forth across the room. Harry supposed this was rather pointless, but could really think of nothing else to do.

The rest of the day passed in a manor quite similar to this, Harry stayed up most of the night from nerves and woke with a start at the sound of his aunt rapping on his door.

"Get up! Get up now or you're going to be late!" She shrieked, and with one last rap, left him to wake on his own. Harry groaned and disentangled himself from the sheets. He quickly changed into an overlarge and unfashionable outfit that had once belonged to his obese cousin. After doing one final search of his room for anything he had forgotten, he hauled his trunk down the stairs and into his uncle's car.

A while later he arrived at King's Cross Station, Uncle Vernon, in an unusual act of kindness, helped Harry heave his things out of the car and onto a cart. "Good bye," Vernon stated firmly, "And good riddance, I don't expect to ever see you again, you hear me boy?" Without waiting for a reply he got back into the car and sped away.

'That was beyond weird,' Harry thought to himself, before pulling the ticket out of his pocket. According to it all Harry had to do was take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock.

Upon further examination of Kings Cross there was no sign of any such platform. There were platforms nine and ten, but in-between… nothing. This was ridiculous, why go through all the bother of supply lists and forging the handwriting of different people, to simply have the train not exist? Harry sighed and decided to walk the length of the station in case they had somehow 'misplaced' his station.

The clock now read 10:55; Harry had five minutes to find his train before it left. Seeing how his station was neither in order, nor misplaced, he was left very little choice, and thus asked a passing guard. He didn't dare mention a platform nine and three-quarters, and instead asked if the guard knew which train was going to Hogwarts.

"What?" asked the guard in a haughty voice "is this some kind of ongoing joke? Every year the same questions, is September first the new April fools?" and the man left shaking his head and muttering about youngsters now a days, delinquents the lot of them.

Ten fifty-nine, he was certainly cutting it close, but still no sign of the train. One minute later, damn it he was late. Two minutes passed ten; the train would surely have left by now. By the time the clock had reached five passed ten, Harry was very tired, not to mention annoyed.

Harry, in a fit of frustration, started to bang his head against one of the barriers, but to his immense surprise, this was not at all what happened. He was expecting his head to hit the brick, but he instead fell, face forward, onto the ground. After scurrying to his feet, he twisted around only to find a brick wall. He cautiously walked toward the wall, his hands held out before him. Now back in the crowded station, he stared in wonderment at the wall. After pacing back and forth through the seemingly solid wall multiple times, he grabbed his trunk and headed into the concealed platform.

Sure enough it read "Platform 9 ¾" in wrought-iron. 'Great,' he thought 'I found the station, now what?' There was no train waiting expectantly, of course it was about eight minutes since the train had left, so that was to be expected. The large platform only had a few people on it, on one end was a boy that looked to be around fourteen, who was rolling his eyes at his parents' lecture, on the other end was a lone mother, with a set of twins hanging from her arms, the girl was apologizing repeatedly, tears running down her freckled face, while her male twin just stood silently, staring at the train-less tracks.

A loud _pop! _brought Harry's attention back over to the boy with his parents, but to his great surprise, both of the parents seemed to have vanished into thin air. Harry walked over to the blond boy. "Er… hi," He said uncertainly.

"Hey," said the boy looking up, before his face broke into a grin at Harry's confused expression. "Let me guess, it's the first time you've missed the train?"

"Uh yeah," was Harry's replay, he decided to just play along.

"Well there's nothing to worry about, a train always comes about fifteen minutes after the Hogwarts Express for anyone who was late," the boy looked Harry up and down, "You look to be about 17, you must really be a goody-to-shoes if you weren't late once until seventh year."

"No, I just happen to prefer being on time," Harry stated, so far he wasn't really enjoying the company of this boy.

The blond laughed in reply, "You sound like my housemates, you wouldn't happen to be a Ravenclaw would you?"

"Not that I know of," Harry said, growing uncomfortable, they were reaching unfamiliar ground, and Harry much preferred having an even footing.

A train whistle sounded behind them, and they turned to see a short scarlet train with silver writing along the side that read _Hogwarts Mini-Express, for those who don't own watches. _This was a rather strange way of referring to late-comers, but effective none-the-less.

Harry, the brunet, and the twins all boarded the train. About five minutes later the train pulled out of the station, no one else had boarded. It was rather boring, seeing as there was nothing to do in the sole train compartment, so Harry started studying the other passengers. The girl and her twin were building a card castle, which proved to be very difficult on a moving train. As the boy added another card the whole thing blew up in his face, his sister started laughing and he glared at her.

"First years are so cute," the boy next to Harry chuckled. Harry turned and raised a questioning brow. "Well, they're so small and are amused by the smallest of things,"

The boy took on a high pitched voice "Ooh! The castle is so-o-o-o big! Wow! You can make things _float_!"

"Yes, but at least we don't go around gloating that were the best just because of a few magic tricks," the girl had stopped laughing at her twin and was now glaring at the blond.

"That would be because you don't know any."

"I do too! I read all my textbooks before coming here!"

"No wonder you were late."

"Oh! I just bet you're a Slytherin, you're such a self-centered jerk!"

"I'm in Ravenclaw, for your information."

Harry tuned out the argument at about this point, because it was making less and less sense to him as it wore on. His eyes moved over to the small eleven year old boy again, he was sitting, staring dejectedly at the smoldering remains of his card castle. When he noticed Harry staring at him, he in turn stared back.

This boy had the most striking set of golden eyes; they glinted brightly behind his long brown bangs. He gave Harry a small smile before deciding asking if Harry would like to play a game of exploding snap with him.

He agreed, and started to play, it was very fun, but Harry had no luck what-so-ever for this game, by the sixth time he had lost, his face and hands were stinging painfully from the constant explosions.

The train ride passed fairly quickly, Harry had talked to his three compartment-mates; the blond was a 'raven claw' by the name of Stewart, and the twins were named Melvin and Saria. Just as the sun was setting Stewart lent Harry a book titled _Quidich through the Ages_. Harry opened the book and nearly dropped it in surprise, the pictures were _moving_.

'That's it,' Harry thought, 'I'm either dreaming or I've gone crazy, probably both, because only the mentally impaired could have such strange dreams.'

After this thought he kept to that idea, this whole thing had to be a dream, and if he were dreaming he should just play along. So he read his book, which resembled a television. "You really should change," Stewart said.

"Into what?" Harry asked stupidly.

"… Your robes," The blond replied a smile twisting the corners of his mouth. Harry took out his trunk and pulled out a black robe and threw it over his clothes, it was a few inches too short.

"So you're a Gryffindor!" Stewart said eyeing a small patch on Harry's robe.

"Apparently," Harry replied.

The train's whistle sounded loudly. "We're here!" Saria was shouting over and over, jumping up in excitement.

"Chill out, it's just a castle."

"Wow. It's huge," Melvin said quietly. He was shy and quiet, but anything that came out of his mouth was usually worth saying, though in this case Stewart wouldn't have agreed. Harry however did, the castle was now in view out of the window, it was humongous, with tall towers and walls, all in majestic architecture.

The train pulled into the station and a single horseless carriage stood waiting. Stewart climbed into it and the other three fallowed. And with a jerk it moved forward, being pulled along as though by invisible horses. After entering the castle through a pair of large oak double doors, Stewart smiled at them and said "See you later, I'm off to get detention. Sure enough he was dragged of seconds later by a ranted old man and his cat.

On their right was a semi-ajar door, from it they could hear voices. Harry and the twins moved towards this door. "Look! The sorting has already started!" Saria squeaked her voice high, her eyes were very round and she looked scared. Melvin wore very much the same expression and was looking over his sister's shoulder biting his lip in worry.

There was a line of two very nervous looking eleven-year-olds, and the one other sitting on a stool, wearing a very old and dirty hat, in front of what looked to be about eight-hundred people. After a moment the hat shouted loudly a name that meant very little to Harry and ran off to the table that was cheering the hardest.

"Weston, Kimberly!" said a very stern looking woman with square glasses and long velvet crimson robes. A round faced girl with short dark red hair went up, the hat was placed on her head, it shouted yet another meaningless name.

"Vern, Jack!" Another shout from the hat, and the guy ran to his table a huge relieved grin on his face.

"Zyth, Melvin!" He let out a small squeak of fear next to Harry and ran out and over to the stool. The hat was placed on his head, it fell down over his eyes and he bit his lip, obviously one of his signs of nerves.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" This word meant nothing to Harry, no more then anything else this hat had shouted, but Melvin looked relieved and smiled shyly as he sat down at his cheering table.

"Zyth, Saria!" She took a deep breath before moving from Harry's side and out into the large room, she stepped slowly and deliberately over to the stool and sat uncomfortably.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted, this word _did_ mean something to Harry as Stewart had spent a lot of time both bragging and complaining about 'his house'. Her grin lit her golden eyes like a torch and she marched proudly over to her table.

A man with very long silver hair stood in front of the crowd and smiled at them all. "Another year has started, and I am very glad to have you all back, but I assume you would all rather eat then listen to the ramblings of an old man. Tuck in."

And food filled each and every table, Harry's stomach growled loudly in protest, as delicious smells wafted out of the room, reminding him that he had neither eaten breakfast nor lunch. Harry had no desire to join the crowd of students but his hunger was willing him strongly to go in there and eat everything in sight. He forced his eyes away from the eating students to the old man who had spoken just before the meal.

As though the man could sense Harry's gaze on him, he looked up, twinkling blue eyes meeting emerald green ones. He excused himself and walked over to where Harry was standing. Harry stepped back, into the small entrance hall, and the man soon came out.

"Hello Harry," He said smiling, "I'm afraid I must inquire as to why you choose not to eat with your fellow students."

"You know who I am?" Harry said surprised, then his eyes narrowed slightly, "You wouldn't happen to know a crazy old man who works at some creepy vampire store in London, would you?"

The man chuckled, "No Harry, I'm afraid I do not, but I would be delighted to meet him at some point. Now down to business, you have yet to answer my question."

"Look, sir. With all due respect, I would like to inform you that you are just a figment of my imagination or a character in my dream."

"Really? And why is that?"

"Well all this crazy stuff has been happening this summer, I'm getting all these owls delivering me letters, and then I have to find a whole bunch of books for a school that I'd never heard of, and last but not least I end up here, in a castle, with floating candles and self-moving carriages!" It felt great to let all this out, even if it was just to a strange old man.

"So, you mean to say that you have never heard of Hogwarts? What school have you been attending for the past six years?"

"Nope, never heard of it, I went to Stonewall, school of all that is boring in life."

"I see," said the man, his blue eyes twinkling in a mysterious way. "Is there anything you can remember happening just before these events happened?"

Harry shrugged, "It was the day of my seventeenth birthday, why?"

"Oh, no reason," the man replied, the twinkle had still not left his bright blue eyes. "Well, as both you and I know, you are Harry Potter, and I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Uh, nice to meet you," Harry said, very confused.

"In this 'dream' if you really are dreaming, people will already know you, I don't want to explain it all now, but it really is important that you understand this. Hogwarts is a school of magic; we will teach you spells and defenses for them, curses and counter curses. Do you understand so far?"

Harry nodded, and Dumbledore continued. "I will expect you to attend all classes, and try to act as normal as possible, for the fact that you don't remember will come as quite a shock to the entire wizarding world. So, we will try to keep that information as classified as possible."

Harry nodded slowly, wondering why his dream had so many rules. "And on a much lighter note, I do believe you got to watch the end of the sorting?" Another nod. "Well, it would not be at all a proper Hogwarts experience if you don't remember being sorted, so I will let the sorting hat perform its magic for you."

Dumbledore turned back into the hall and went back to the staff table, desserts had replaced the diner foods on the table and Harry watched from the door in envy of all those who were eating happily and talking to friends. Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat. The hall went very silent, all eyes turned on the headmaster.

He talked a bit about school rules, banned objects, and other such things, and just as it seemed he had drawn to a close, he made one announcement that startled everyone. "This year, something will happen at Hogwarts, that has never happened before, we will be resorting a student." Whispers broke out through-out the hall, everyone craning their necks and looking around. "Now there is a chance that this student will end up back in his original house, but that is yet to be seen. The reasons for this resorting are classified, and I would ask you to try and refrain yourselves from making rumors to explain this event. Please welcome Mr. Harry Potter to be resorted."

Dead silence fallowed these words, and as Harry stepped into the room, he was uncomfortably aware of every eye in the hall tracking his every move. He sat on the stool and the woman who had called out students' names during the first sorting brought over the old hat. It was placed on Harry's head, and sadly it didn't shelter him as it did the first years, for it fit him fairly well now and rested firmly on his brow.

"Hmm," said a voice him his head, "Mr. Potter, how nice it is to see you again. Oh and today I shall be resorting you, what an unusual occurrence."

'Will you just get on with it?' Harry thought back angrily.

"Impatient as ever, I see. Now, where to put you, where to put you," the hat muttered.

'Look I really don't care, I'm hungry and want to eat so pick already.'

"You have no preference what-so-ever? No 'not Slytherin, not Slytherin'?

'No. You can read my mind, what's with all the questions?'

"I was just being polite." And then there was silence, the hat was silent, the students were silent, and it was starting to really bother Harry, then finally, "You're positive that you have no preference?"

'I already answered that. I feel no need to repeat myself. Could you hurry up a bit?'

"Alright… better be…"

The hat shouted a word, a word with no meaning to Harry, and he walked to that table, though this was very different from the first sorting, for there was no cheering, just utter and complete silence, and one set of crystalline blue eyes twinkling as they watched the new year begin to unfold.


End file.
